


Thrill of the Hunt

by Arrested_for_Loitering



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Slender Man Mythos
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 13:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9125335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arrested_for_Loitering/pseuds/Arrested_for_Loitering
Summary: Just a little Slenderman dribble, may be turned into a story or lemon later on.





	

The woods closed in around her, silent, shadowy, solitary, as though it were an undiscovered tomb buried deep beneath unending eons. There was no sound: no birds flitted between the barren branches, nor did any insects hum under the bark or mulch, not a creature stirred in the fallen leaves and twigs that littered the forest floor. No, not a sound, save the swift thumpity- thump of her heart and the raspy, stilted sound of each labored breath. 

Her (e/c) eyes flashed with telling trepidation as she turned her head around, waiting, watching. The icy air stung her throat. There was frost on the ground, every here and there a mound of early autumn snow. Her body shook, not with cold, no, but with raw, bone chilling fear and terrible, terrifying anticipation. She stood on trembling knees with her back pressed against an ancient tree. The bark scratched her through the fabric of her shirt; she had lost her coat when it snagged during the chase. 

Not a danger was to be seen. She was safe for a moment, but oh how short that moment would be! Her breaths became longer, steadier, stronger. (y/n) tried to calm down, to think, to reason, but as the sun fell away into a moonless night and the shadows of the forest grew saturating everything within the swirling mountain mists with shades of desolate black, heartless gray, and garish purple it was easy for reason to give way to the grotesque fantasies that haunt men in the fathomless depths of their minds.

She had no idea where she was, the long left pathways were not marked, all the trees looked like trees. The sun was below the canopy, there was no east or west. The early stars were blocked by the rust painted leaves that had yet to fall, there was no north or south. The cars that zoomed over the interstate were countless miles away, there was no road. The rangers would not be about until well after the dawn, there was no help. There was only (y/n) and the feeble hope that whatever graces live above would glance down in pity. Still, the darkness magnified.

Her fate drew near. 

It moved in long strides behind the trees. Near. Nearer. Close. Closer. Ten meters. It could see her, the mud of her boots and the tangles of her (h/c) hair. Five meters. It could smell her, the sweat of her brow, the fresh blood that slid from the little cuts on her arms and legs. Two meters. It could hear the grind of air as it stung the back of her throat. It’s tall, thin body and elongated limbs blended beautifully with the old elms, making It near impossible to see, even in broad daylight, at night it was impossible. There was no racket with Its movements, Its footsteps were too soft. If the thing was breathing, there was no evidence of it. 

One meter. 

She didn’t have a prayer. 

As the predator drew closer, she had no way to see, to hear, and yet. And yet. She felt It. Sensed It. Her blood turned to sleet, the tiny hairs on the jumped on end, and her muscles flexed impulsively. Bracing. Where (y/n)’s senses failed, the instincts rooted far into her humanity held true. But they were too late. 

One step. 

It came from behind her, the width of the tree stood as her only protection. Inky tendrils spread out from Its back and snaked around the wood like the bars of a cage, just outside of her peripheral. She drew a shaky gasp, to free herself from crippling fear. Her legs refused to move, so great was her terror. She waited for doom.

It came in the blinking of an eye. A tentacle brushed against her left ankle, she jumped frantically to the right, into the creature’s torso. A black tendril knotted around her arm and pulled, to spin her around like a top, until she faced the thing. There was a shriek, a horrid note filled with pain, twisted surprise, and fright, but it mattered not as she stared up at him. Him. The creature was male, she surmised, and creature wasn’t a completely correct term. He posed on two legs like a man, although far too stretched and skinny to ever be called such. He wore a suit, complete with a tie and shiny black shoes. He had no hair, and no face for that matter. Well, at least not a face with features. No eyes, no nose, no ears, no visible mouth, yet he had a rather impressive jawline.


End file.
